Chapter 12
TWELVE
‘I really like these pens, I think we should place an order for—’
Florrie’s conversation with Leah was brought to an abrupt halt as the door burst open and Dawn stepped into the bookshop on a wave of self-importance, sweeping aside the calm atmosphere in one fell swoop.
‘How very parochial,’ she announced in an officious voice, giving a disapproving sniff.
Florrie and Leah exchanged concerned glances. ‘Hello, Dawn.’ Florrie set her pen down on the counter where she and Leah had been perusing a brochure of stationery. She valued her young assistant’s opinion on such things, especially when choosing stock that would appeal to younger customers.
If Dawn had heard Florrie’s greeting, she chose to ignore it, and instead proceeded to look around, a scornful expression on her face as she gave her surroundings a quick appraisal.
Anyone would think it was the first time she’d set foot in the bookshop rather than it being her first port of call when she’d arrived in the town on Friday.
Granted, she hadn’t hung around for long then, when it had been busy with customers.
‘After all Ed’s told his father and I about this place, waxing lyrical about the improvements you’ve made, I was expecting something far more impressive than this,’ Dawn said in a scornful tone as she made a show of glancing around the space.
Florrie exchanged another glance with Leah, her hackles standing on end. From the look in her assistant’s eyes, they were thinking the same thing.
‘You didn’t see what it was like before, Mum.’ Ed spoke in a much gentler tone than the one Florrie would’ve used.
He’d been working in the window when his mother had arrived, and had jumped out on hearing her voice, tripping over the curtain in his haste.
He had flecks of white paint in his hair and a generous dusting of glitter on his face.
‘I mean, for a start, there’s the staircase, and now the teashop.
They’re major improvements.’ The couple hadn’t just updated the bookshop’s dowdy décor; they’d managed to balance it with a traditional aesthetic that suited the Victorian age of the building, while making it a more pleasant place to spend time browsing the shelves.
A striking reclaimed staircase, with its highly polished handrail and ornate cast-iron balusters, now curved around the wall to the right and led to the first floor where the former bookshop accommodation had been converted to more bookshop space with the tearoom occupying the large room at the front.
Though it was a functional structure, the salvaged staircase added a welcome touch of character to the bookshop, especially since Florrie and Ed had utilised the space below to great effect.
They’d created a cosy area where customers could take a moment to relax whilst perusing a book in the brace of squishy armchairs they’d placed there.
There was a small table set before the seats, topped with leaflets promoting, amongst other things, the shop’s loyalty card, new titles they would be taking delivery of, and the various events the bookshop held.
‘And we’ve updated the tills, linked them in with a sophisticated point of sale system and stock management software; it’s all very efficient. It’s a far cry from the antiquated till that regularly conked out, and handwritten order book my grandfather used to have.’
‘Hmm.’ Dawn spun around on her heel, fixing him with a cold stare.
‘That’s all very well, but it’s hardly ground-breaking, is it?
I could never understand why your grandparents were so attached to this place, and I’ve no idea why you’re so keen to follow in their footsteps and be a shopkeeper.
’ She shook her head and rolled her eyes derisively.
‘You had a perfectly good career as an artist, which you seem to have had no qualms about throwing away.’ In typical Dawn style, she wasn’t holding back.
This was one of those moments when the usually quiet and unassuming Florrie wanted to leap to the defence of someone she cared about and tell the offending individual exactly what she thought.
But something told her doing that wouldn’t help the current situation.
She didn’t want to add fuel to his parents’ dislike of her, knowing it would only make things worse for Ed.
So, as difficult as it was, she bit down on her outrage and remained quiet.
‘I mean, this town, for starters,’ Dawn continued. ‘It’s stagnant, insular. Where’s the opportunity? Where’s the—’
‘Well, I love it here, Mum, and I love the bookshop. Florrie and I are finding new ways to improve it all the time, which is why we’re staying put,’ Ed replied, his calmness a contrast with his mother’s harsh, overbearing manner.
‘I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Florrie and I have a good life here. This is where my roots are.’
‘Your roots? Really? I’d be interested to hear what your father has to say about that.
’ Dawn gave a mocking laugh before casting Florrie a disdainful look.
‘Very well, I suppose it’s your choice.’ She muttered something indiscernible under her breath before saying, ‘I’ve been giving your wedding some thought and have a few ideas to put forward.
After all, you are my son and I daresay your fiancée’s parents have been heavily involved.
And while I’m here, I can give you some ideas on how you can improve things in this place. ’
Gerty, who’d been observing the interaction from her bed by the counter, raised her head from her paws as a low growl started emanating from her. Dawn shot her a look of irritation.
‘Go, Gerty,’ Leah said under her breath.
Florrie’s face drained of all colour, her expression betraying her feeling of utter horror.
‘Yes, Florrie’s mum and dad have been helping, but we’ve done most of the organising ourselves. There’s not been that much to do with us keeping things low-key; we’ve pretty much got things sorted.’
‘In that case, I’ll help out here in the bookshop for now,’ Dawn said in a tone that wouldn’t brook any argument. She jabbed her hands on her hips and pinned Florrie with her gimlet gaze as if daring her to respond.
‘Oh my God, please no,’ Leah said under her breath, as a customer made his way to the counter. From the awkward expression on his face, he’d clearly heard the interaction, but then, Dawn’s voice was so loud, there’d be no missing it, it would’ve reached every corner of the bookshop.
‘Where’s your mum?’ Florrie asked later that morning when she’d returned to the bookshop, droplets of rain glistening on her bobble hat and the shoulders of her duffle coat.
She’d taken Gerty to the local veterinary surgery for the Labrador’s annual vaccination boosters and had been out longer than she’d hoped thanks to the vet running late.
It was instantly evident that Dawn was no longer in the building as the usual calm atmosphere had returned.
It was almost as if the bookshop had breathed a sigh of relief along with Leah and Ed.
Florrie and Ed had agreed that with the current situation, it would be best if she took Gerty to the vets while he remained at the shop, rather than leave Leah, or even Leah and Florrie, with Dawn.
Even though they knew the appointment wouldn’t take long, Ed had, in a roundabout way, said he felt uncomfortable leaving them on their own with his mother.
Florrie was grateful for this, especially since they were still yet to fathom the real reason for Dawn being there.
Her capricious moods – of which there had been many – hadn’t helped either and could change at the drop of a hat.
They seemed to swing from her original disdain to feigning interest in the wedding.
Florrie couldn’t decide which was worse, especially when Dawn had started showing an interest in her wedding dress, even pushing to see it.
‘It’s not an unreasonable request, your mother will know what it looks like.
It’s only fair that I do, too.’ Taking in Florrie’s shocked expression she’d said, ‘Well, it is! And there’s no need to look so outraged.
What harm could it do for me to take a look?
It’s not as if I’d tell all and sundry what it’s like.
And don’t tell me you hold with all those ridiculous, old-fashioned superstitions about it being bad luck for anyone else to see it.
We all know that’s a load of claptrap.’ Dawn had craftily made sure to make all of her comments out of Ed’s earshot while he was busy working in the window.
And though she’d attempted a smile, there was no disguising the challenging glint in her eyes.
Ed’s mother had continued to push to see the dress until Florrie had taken Gerty and left the bookshop for the vets, her insides churning, her stress levels climbing skywards. Which was probably why the relief at not hearing her future mother-in-law’s voice on her return was so welcome.
She looked at Ed, taking in his expression. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was looking more than a little sheepish.
‘Has something happened?’ Florrie asked. She had a horrible feeling she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. Her eyes switched to Leah at the counter. The young girl, who was out of Ed’s eyeline, pulled an exaggerated scared face.
‘Er, no. Everything’s fine. She’s… um. She’s at Samphire Cottage,’ he said.
‘Samphire Cottage?’ Surely she couldn’t have heard right?
Florrie’s mind went straight to her wedding dress that was hanging on a hook on the back of the door in the cottage’s tiny box room – the room where Ed’s mum had wanted to stay.
Granted, it was hidden beneath a garment cover, but knowing Dawn, she wouldn’t put it past her to take a look.
It made her suddenly wish she’d taken her mum up on her offer of keeping it at their house.